


The Woman in White

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-30 10:37:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10161302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Ron meets with his friends and lets his temper out





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Ron entered the café in and looked around. Harry and Hermione had yet to arrive, but seeing as he worked out of his home, he could leave when he pleased and as a result was usually on time for anything. Harry was an Auror now and had to make sure nothing was left in limbo before he left for breaks. Hermione was still in an apprenticeship with Professor Snape and had to make sure potions were stabilized completely before leaving. 

He ordered a drink and found a table in the corner. Looking around Ron felt the anger rising up again. He had moved back to England after being in Ireland for five years with his now former fiancé. His twisted, sadistic, malicious, vicious, life sucking former bitch of a fiancé.

He closed his eyes and let his head roll back. He had been so blind when it came to Sara. He fell for every line she tossed his way and he must have looked like a fool for swallowing it all. 

He thought back to the infamous day when he had finally seen her for what she really was. She was out on the backyard patio with her girlfriends, about five of them to be exact, having tea. He had been out but came back early. It was his intention to sneak into his office for a brief moment then leave her to her friends, but he ended up hearing more then was planned. 

“Trust me Kimmi, I knew I had him the moment I spoke to him that first night.” Sara had said. 

“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you wanted him.” Kimmi had told her. 

“Come on now, you know she never turns down a challenge.” Ron didn’t recognize this voice among the giggles. 

“Challenge? Did you say challenge?” Yet another girl whose laughter distorted her voice. “What challenge was there?” 

“Why popping the runt of the Weasley litter of course.” Ron’s whole body seethed with red hot blood. His recognized Sara’s voice even through her giggles. 

“Do you mean he was a virgin?!” One of the girls asked. 

“He told me he was, and he believes in honesty.” She said sarcastically. “Communication is key to trust.” 

Ron felt like throwing a chair through the window. He forced himself to stay still as he listened from his office window. “I can’t believe he asked you to marry him though. I mean he must really feel something.”

“What he feels is fresh pussy.” Sara had said. Silence reigned, then the girls each erupted in laughter. “And I’m not stupid enough to let a good life slip through my fingers.”

“Fresh, my ass Sara,” one of the girls called out, “who are you trying to have fool?” 

“You can’t tell me he believed you were a virgin too?” Another asked. 

“No, I’m not a good enough actress to pull that off,” more giggles from the girls, “I just reduced the number.”

“By how much?” Ron recognized Lucy from her many visits.

“I told him there were three before him.” She had said. 

“Three?” Was that Kimmi again?

“The actual number would be three multiplied by……” 

“Stop it.” Sara said. “Leave off, Ron’s a decent man, and I know he will be faithful.”

“Right, but will you?” Someone asked. Ron paid closer attention. 

“Of course.” She said. 

Laughter erupted again. “Ok, what’s the starting bet for this dry spell?” One of the girls called out. Ron didn’t bother to hear the predictions, he left the house and flew about on his broom and extremely high speeds for several hours. 

He didn’t go home that night. He had stayed in a local inn at the neighboring town. Their engagement party was planned for the next day and he was thinking about what he would do. There was no way he was going to marry her. She saw him as nothing but a pastime. A diversion from her own licentious lifestyle who was successful enough to make sure she stayed in that lifestyle. He was a toy to her, and now he was a toy to her friends as well. There was no way he was going through life with her at his side. 

He had gotten an owl that night, asking where he was, and reminding him about the party the next day. He didn’t answer it. He just lay there alone thinking of what he should do. He cried, wrecked furniture, repaired it, then cried, then felt depressed then angry. In the early hours of the morning, he finally knew what he would do. He slept for a few hours, waking to another letter from Sara, this time, obviously angry and reminding him of the party that both of their families and friends would be at. 

Ron showed up and said not one word. He sat in his chair next to her, going through the check list of plans he had set into motion. When he checked his watch a few times, she knew something was wrong, and tried several times to get it out of him, but he said nothing until Harry showed up. He stood up and told those at the table that he was going out to smoke with Harry. He knew it would piss her off, because she always made comments about him having to quit soon.

He filled in his longtime friend on what had happened and where he was the night before. Harry was shocked beyond belief. He offered Ron his guest room if he was coming back to England, and Ron readily accepted, even if it was only long enough to find his own place. He would be back in his home country as soon as he tied up loose ends. He already hired three of the house elves the inn employed to moved everything he owned out of the house he shared with Sara. By now his belongings would be safely packed in two charmed rucksacks in his inn room. 

He calmly went back to the party and sat down. Harry was the only one aware of what was about to happen, and when Ron was asked for a speech, he spoke his mind. He told Sara that he knew about the lies she told him, how there were more then three men in her life and that he was just another in a very, very, very, very long line. The entire room was silent as Ron announced that there was no way he was marrying a woman who only wanted to break in the youngest Weasley male, then use him to have an easy life. 

By this time, Ron’s own parents were seeing red, and Sara’s parents were looking at their daughter in disbelief. Ron calmly thanked everyone for showing up, offered his apologies to his family and friends for taking an unnecessary trip but asking them to continue enjoying themselves and then calmly left the hall. Harry had agreed to tell his parents that he would be in England again soon but for the moment Ron didn’t want to see anyone. He went back to his inn and relaxed in bed, ordering a supper sent to his room. 

He saw Harry’s owl and let him in, feeding him from his plate and reading Harry’s note that his parents and siblings had been told and would wait until he came home to see him. Until then they were all there if he needed them. But while he appreciated their support, he only accepted Harry’s offer and only stayed as long as necessary, which ended up being a week. 

Now he was firmly settled back in England, having found a small cottage style house in the country. He was a novelist and his publishing house was based in London, so it would make visits easier. It would also make promotions easier. When Ron had lived in Ireland he didn’t make as many trips for parties or signings, now that he was local again, he would be able to take an active hand in marketing his work.

He sighed deeply. He was also distrustful of nearly every woman he came across now. Some of it was obvious, woman who eyed him when he was dressed in what he called ‘Malfoy’ standards. Others knew who he was from his signings or interviews and such. It made him sick to think that there were so many doppelgangers of Sara in the world, prepared and ready with the same lines she used, and he gullibly fell for.

“What’s the frown for?” He looked up and smiled. 

“Hello to you too, Hermione.” He stood up and kissed her cheek, accepting her hug as he had done many, many, many, times over the years.

“Have you been here long?” She asked sitting down and waving to a nearby server. 

“No, not long.’ He said. It was true, his deranged thoughts had only taken mere minutes off of his life. 

“Can I have Earl Grey please?” Hermione asked when the server arrived.

“And a chamomile.” Harry spoke as he came up behind the server. She hurried away as Harry took a seat. 

“So Ron, what was the frown about?” Hermione asked, when they were alone. 

“What frown?” Ron asked her. 

“The one you most likely had when she showed up,” Harry offered, “and I’ll wager I knew who brought it on.”

“Oh Ronald, you weren’t thinking of her again were you?” Hermione whined. 

“In a way I was.” It was pointless to deny it. Harry and Hermione knew him too well to be fooled by a lie.

“It’s been over seven months Ron.” Harry told him. 

“I was with her for five years Harry,” Ron said back, “and she was my first. Miserable bitch.”

“Ronald.” Hermione groaned. 

“Don’t give me that Hermione,” Ron counter before she had time to add more, “what would you do or say after being with a man for five years, living with him and planning to marry, only to find out that you were a toy and to find out that there was now a wager on the faithfulness of said man after your marriage?” Hermione stared at him without saying a word. “That’s what I thought.”

“Ok, I’ll give you that, but are you going to hate every woman you see now?” She asked him. 

“I don’t hate you.” He offered with a grin. Hermione only rubbed her eyes with her palms. “Let me ask you this, are you planning on using a man for fun, telling him you love him and there isn’t anyone else, all the while going back to your friends and laughing at his reactions?” 

“Of course not.” She answered. 

“Well, she did.” Ron told her. “And I will be angry as long as I need to be.” 

Hermione said nothing more, knowing he was right. He deserved to heal for as long as he needed to. Harry’s eyes went back and forth from friend to friend until the silence became too much. “So Ron, I was going to try and get to the Cannons game coming up, should I get two tickets?”

“Always.” He said, and with a newfound comfortable atmosphere, the three friends had lunch together. It was a weekly tradition they had rekindled since Ron’s return. While he was in Ireland, they were only able to meet once a month. 

The peace however didn’t last. As they were finishing up and relaxing with casual talk, a very irritating voice interrupted them. “Mr. Weasley, how nice to see you back in England.”

All three of them looked up at Rita Skeeter with disdain. “Good afternoon Miss Skeeter.”

“May I express condolences for the horrible situation regarding your former betrothed.” She said, sliding into the empty seat at his side.

“Betrothed?” Hermione repeated.

Skeeter ignored her and spoke again to Ron. “Does moving back to your home country mean you are going to find a woman of fine English blood to heal your shattered heart.” Ron sat up and leaned toward her, smiling broadly. Harry closed his eyes and Hermione lowered her head clutching Harry’s hand in both of hers, both well aware of what was coming. 

“Miss Skeeter, there is no way I am going to try and find another vindictive, cerebral succubus, bent on milking me dry of breathe, blood, urine and semen with her twat, like I was caught in devil’s snare.” Miss Skeeter leaned away from him with a shocked expression, but Ron didn’t stop. “You can take that quill of yours, most likely fashion from your pussy and write whatever the fuck comes into your head, because like so many women on this planet, you cannot spread the horror, lies, and rampage fast enough, can you?”

He tossed Harry a few galleons for his lunch and left the café. Hermione looked over at the stunned reporter. “He’s still very angry.” She said softy.


	2. Two

  
Author's notes: Ron goes shopping and loses his temper  


* * *

Ron had an appointment with his publisher regarding plans for an upcoming book. His last book was just released in paperback after doing well in hardcover. Ron had a few months to come up with another and he was waiting for inspiration to strike. His mood lately wasn’t helping. 

He walked into the office and saw Pansy Parkinson at the receptionist desk. She knew why he was here, he had been to the office several times since he had moved back to England.

“Go on in, he’s waiting for you.” She said when she saw him. 

He gave her a smile and a nod and walked into the office behind her desk. Mr. Franklin smiled and stood, welcoming Ron as he came in and took a seat. “Good to see you again Ron.” 

“Likewise Justin.” He said leaning back in his chair. 

“Any inspiration?” He asked. 

“ ‘Summerland’ was just re-released in paperback, give me some time. I have several months before even submitting a new prospect.” Ron told him. 

“I know, I know. It‘s just that the fan mail for you is growing with each publication. Any idea you have for a storyline is gold right now and they want more.”

“Justin the last thing I want is to become repetitive, and if I don’t space out time between each book then it they will just become copies of each other.” He said ending the topic. There was nothing Justin could say to that. 

He handed Ron a rolled up parchment. “Those royalties were deposited to your accounts earlier today.” Ron acknowledged the figures and the sales numbers. Both hardcover and paperback editions were still selling well. His previous novels continued to move also. Whenever a new novel was released he saw a jump in previous material from readers who had just discovered his work and went out buying the rest of his work. 

“The publishers gala is coming up.” Justin told him. 

“Good for you.” Ron said as he read.

Justin knew Ron wasn’t the party type man, but he continued anyway. “It will be a good opportunity to reconnect with the literary world now that you are back in England.” He knew Ron wanted to take an active part in marketing himself. He had returned home and that always made an author more popular. 

Ron had to admit he had point. He had been out of England for so long that he would have to put himself out into the publishing world and make the acquaintance of people in the business, and see how it had changed since he left. It was a good business decision, to know who was behind all the bestsellers. “Alright, when and where is it?”

“Here’s the invite.” He handed Ron an elegantly scripted card. “Will you be able to find a date in time. It’s later this week.”

“I won’t have a date.” He said, slipping the invite into his robes.

“Come on now……” He started. 

“Don’t bother, if I need a date, I won’t go.” Ron said firmly. 

“No, you don’t need a date. Send the RSVP card for one if you want.” Justin rose and walked him to the door. Apparently Ron’s issues with women went as far as rumor had indicated. It was a shame. Ron was a fine catch, but that girl he used to date had ruined it for every other young lady in England. “It is formal however, you have dress robes I assume.”

“I’ll get them in time.” Ron told him and took his leave, giving Pansy a nod on his way out. 

He apparated to Diagon Alley and went to a men’s clothier. He had gotten rid of his dress robes because Sara had given them to him. He didn’t have a lot of experience with high class dressing and events and such. When he began making more money and going to events she was the one who made sure he looked good. The robes were a gift but he eventually figured out that she wanted him to look a certain way. She didn’t want to be embarrassed by his lack of social skills. 

Draco Malfoy had given him a few tips on dressing when he began making money, and with men’s periodicals he now had his own unique sense of style. He stayed with blues and blacks, they worked best with his ginger hair and blue eyes. 

He walked into the store and looked around. Casual clothes were in the front along with shoes. Men’s formal attire was often located in the back with fitting rooms. A young girl behind the counter looked up from the paper she was marking and smiled at him. “Can I help you sir?” 

“I need dress robes.” Ron told her. 

“Dress robes are in the back. Katie is back there, she’ll be able to help you with anything you need.” She smiled at him as she spoke. 

‘Thank you.” Ron walked toward the back and was immediately drawn to a display dummy of very nice robes. He usually bought from displays since the entire ensemble was already put together, but ended up making small changes.

“Can I help you?” A girl, most likely just out of Hogwarts approached him. 

“I like this look. But do you have a different cloak, something simpler.” He asked. She quickly took his measurements and fetched his sizes, then used her wand to make simple alterations when he tried them on. As she suggested items for him, she noticed he chose several expensive items. 

Ron felt his frustration rise when she began flirting. He also didn’t miss that it began after his bill had risen substantially. He ignored several comments, and focused on putting together his robes. 

She returned with his cloak, a simple cleaned lined design without the frivolity or tapestries or trims. He added it and took a look at the finished product. He looked good, and it was prefect for the gala. 

“Very nice.” She said smiling behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“I have an event to attend in a few days.” He said offhandedly. 

“Your date is going to be very impressed.” She said giving him a wink through the mirror. 

“I’m going alone.” He said, fiddling with the cuff that emerged from his sleeve. 

“I’m sure an affluent man like you would have no problem finding a date for the night.” She had taken a step closer, tilting her head with a smile and Ron finally reached the end of his patience. 

“An affluent man like me isn’t about to get wrapped up in a frivolous little girl who sees nothing but a man’s money sac and an opportunity to fuck her way to an easy life.” He spoke all in one breathe and by the time he was done the girls face had gone milky white. 

“Perhaps I can help.” An older man who introduced himself as the shop owner had come up behind her and spoke quickly. “Lisa needs your help up front.” 

Katie quickly left and Ron finished his shopping with new assistance, and managed to make it out of the shop without sending any girls away in tears.

When he got him, he hung his dress robes and placed a pressing spell on them to make sure they stayed neat and wrinkle free for the event. He sat down with a glass of wine and thought about the afternoon. His temper at obvious displays of avarice was the worst. Nosiness and curiosity, he could handle with some form of control, but when women flirted with him after seeing how much money he made, or in today’s case, how much he was willing to spend, it meant that he was appealing because of his money. 

It made him sick, and reminded him of Sara all over again. He let out his anger and bitterness many times with Draco and Harry. Harry, because he was his best mate, and Draco because he knew all about galleon hunters. Draco always had a sympathetic ear for him, because he was hunted constantly, not only for his money but his influential name. 

He finished his wine. It was sad how some women acted. Because of Sara’s viciousness he was on edge and watching everyone. He let his head roll back. He hated being this way, and feeling like this, but he couldn’t help it. He felt used in the worst way. She had told him she loved him, and presented herself as an understanding partner, when the whole time she had used him and laughed at him behind his back. He had been nothing to her.

He finished his drink and took his broom outside, circling in the air. Flying always helped calm him down when he was agitated or angry. He worked up a good sweat then showered and went to bed. 

 

Ron had sent the RSVP indicating that he was coming alone, and he soon received an owl in return. It gave him the exact location of the soiree, including a detailed map of the room at the grand hotel it was being held at. He was also given a black mask. It left his hair free, but covered half his face, leaning only his lips, lower cheeks, nostrils and chin free. It held in place with a charm and it was so comfortable that Ron hardly felt it when it was on. As nice as it was, he decided to go without it at the event. He was going to make the rounds and announce his return to England. Hiding would defeat the purpose.

As he prepared for the event, showering and shaving carefully, he took great care with his appearance. Being raised in nothing by hand me downs and second hand clothes in his youth, he valued the look new clothes gave him. It was something he never took for granted and he never half-assed anything when it came to his looks. 

Wearing his trousers and shoes, but only a t-shirt he entered his front room and poured a drink. He had just put the bottle back when he heard a tapping at his window. There was an owl waiting to be let in. Ron, puzzled, took the note and offered a treat he had in his own owl’s perch.

The parchment was a glimmering ivory with feminine script in solid black. 

‘I cannot wait to see you this evening. I know you will stand far above any peacock tonight.’

Ron turned the parchment this way and that, but there was nothing else to it. No indication of who it came from. Ron was used to being chased by now, but usually woman gave him their name, wanting to be recognized and sought out. It was then, that he noticed the delivering owl had flown back out the window. 

Who would send this this, then not bother to give a name? This woman obviously liked games and that rattled Ron. He was finished with games. He tossed the note on his desk and went back to continue dressing. 

 

The gala was in full swing when Ron arrived, and he could see that the note was accurate about peacocks. Several people were wearing the masks sent out by the committee, many others had chosen to create their own elaborate masks. The pompous displays were an obvious game of one-up-man-ship. Men were vying for the attentions of woman and had thought that outlandish displays would get them noticed. 

Ron wasn’t the only one who decided to go bare faced. He recognized several publishers and editors and was stopped by men and women alike anxious to welcome him to England. Nobody spoke of his almost marriage, and he was glad. The less he thought or spoke of Sara, the better. 

He couldn’t help however taking a look at all the women in attendance, wondering who had sent him the note. None seemed to be paying overt attention to him. It baffled him that she would want to remain unknown. The women he usually dealt with put themselves in his path looking for attention. Why hide?

He was seated among several people who attended alone and a few couples. He was deep in conversation with a well known publisher who was friends with Justin and they talked as the dancing began. Ron had was too engrossed in the talk he was having, to care about dancing, but when an older woman he spoke to asked him for a dance he accepted with pleasure.

“It is good to see you back home Mr. Weasley.” She said to him. About his mothers age, she possessed the same welcoming smile as Molly Weasley, but this woman dressed with the knowledge of one who had grown up with money. Her appreciative face, made her endearing to him, unlike a lot of others who still held Ron’s origins against him. 

“I have to say, Mrs. Willowton, it is very nice to be back.” He said. 

“If I may be somewhat personal…..” Ron gave her a nod, “it is sad that you returned home under the circumstances you did.” 

Ron smiled at her. She was one of the first he met when he began writing. She was one of the few women he respected. “It is, but better to have happened before I married her and got stuck in an ugly situation.” 

“You shouldn’t let it dampen your spirits Ron. I hate to see you alone.” She told him. 

“I will be fine.” He told her. 

“I know you will, you survived worse then a greedy woman. I just don’t like the thought of her making you misogynistic.” She told him. 

“I’m not. There are women I love and respect, you among them.” She smiled up at his charm. “Like I told Hermione, I am healing, just like any woman would. Men hurt too.” 

“I know.” She said and flowed across the dance floor with him. 

Ron spent the evening speaking with several people. Justin had been right about this being a good chance for meeting important people. He also met up with bookstore owners who were anxious to speak with his publisher about carrying his work. He met reviewers who had read his work and spoke at length regarding some themes in his writing. 

Toward the end of the evening he returned to his table and spoke with the publisher friend of Justin’s. He was anxious to see what Ron’s next work would be about, but Ron had to admit that he was taking his time with his next piece. 

When someone had asked the publisher to dance, Ron took the time to go to the gents. When he returned there was one couple at the table talking intimately while the others danced. Ron’s topped short when he saw a note next to his wine glass. It was the same ivory paper as the one he received earlier that day. 

‘You are dressed as a true gentleman. Sophisticated and elegant all on your own. Truly the most handsome man here.’

“Excuse me, did you see who left this here?” He asked the couple, gesturing to the note. 

“A lady in a white feather mask, left it there.” The man said as if he expected Ron to know already. He went back to his date as Ron nodded. 

Slipping the note into his robes he scanned the room. He couldn’t find a white feather mask in sight. His eyes trained on any glimpse of white but he could find none. 

The party was ending and half the guests had left. There was no sign of white feathers anywhere. Ron had no choice but to leave without any answers. He was now more curious then ever as to who had written to him. 

He went home to find an owl waiting on his window. He opened the window, but instead of flying in, the owl dropped a scroll and flew off into the night. 

Ron took the scroll and opened it up. He felt his rage rising at the words. 

“Ron, I know it’s been some time, but I was hoping we might be able to meet for tea. I will be in England visiting a cousin of mine and it will be a great opportunity for us to talk. There has been too much between us to just go on like this. I hope to see you soon. Sara”

Ron crumbled the note and tossed it into the fire, watching it ignite and feed the flames. He grabbed his broom and took of into the night, circling around faster and faster for over an hour, before falling into an exhausted stupor.


	3. Three

  
Author's notes: A new idea  


* * *

Pansy Parkinson was surprised to see Ron walk into the office the next morning. Her wide eyes told him so, but he spoke politely to her even though he was obviously in a rush. “I don’t have an appointment, but is Justin free?”

“Yes, he is. You can go on in, he won’t mind.” He gave her a smile in thanks and hurried into Justin’s office. 

“Ron?” Justin shuffled through the parchments on his desk. “Did I miss a meeting memo?”

“No, we didn’t have a meeting.” Ron came closer to the desk. “I was wondering if you had photos from the gala last night?”

“Sure, I was going to go select some for the papers, and for our internal reviews.” He gestured to a stack on his desk.

“I won’t take any, but do you mind if I have a look?” Ron asked already taking his cloak.

“Sure.” He said with a wave of his hand.

Pansy brought in tea for them, while Justin focused on the parchments, and Ron moved slowly through the photos. 

He looked carefully in every image for white feathers. Whoever it was had eluded the camera carefully, or hadn’t shown up until later. Either way, Ron went through every picture in his hands. He was about three quarters of the way through the stack when he saw her. 

It was a photo of a man and woman in matching masks waving at the camera and trying to look dignified while having too much fun. But Ron was drawn instead to the pillar in the background. There, in a white slip style dress, trying to remain undetected, was the woman with the white feather mask. It was more of mask then anything in the room. The white feathers covered her head, from the bridge of her nose to the nape of her neck as if her own head had sprouted the plumage instead of hair. The only part exposed was her lips, lower cheeks and jaw and the tip of her nose. 

She was looking around but when her eyes found the camera she tucked herself behind the pillar. Ron smiled at the image. The little lady didn’t want to be photographed. He studied the repeating woman in the photo. Normally women put themselves in his path in several ways to be noticed. This woman was different. 

He was intrigued that she didn’t speak to him. She just left her note and then vanished. Her mask was the most feminine of anything he had seen that night. The feathers curled around her whole head, and hid her with a glamour and a mystery that he found intriguing. 

She had a trim figure but he could tell that she was svelte from exercise as opposed to dieting. Her bare arms were firm instead of stringing, and the dress stopping at her knees let him see legs curved with firmness and not thin and bony. She was glamorous and graceful and Ron found himself wondering what her purpose was in hiding from him. 

He was drawn to her tactic. It was evasive, as if she was afraid to admit her identity, but why? He knew he was mouthy when it came to some women, but only with the obviously greedy ones. He was polite to most ladies who didn’t flirt like ostriches, showing an interest in his possessions, rather than him. 

This woman, however, avoided him, waiting until she was sure she wouldn’t be seen. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to find out what her interest was and why she chose this way to talk to him. Maybe she was a galleon hunter, but maybe she wasn’t. The only way he would know was to talk to her.

“Justin, do you know this woman?” Ron asked coming over to the desk and handing him the photo. “The one in the back behind the pillar.”

Justin focused but she wasn’t close enough to the camera for him to see clearly. “She’s good at hiding.” He said with a chuckle. 

“Do you remember her from the event?” Ron pressed. 

“No. She must have shown up late and left soon after.” Justin said, leaning back and looking at Ron. “I can’t remember having seen a mask like that.”

“I thought the same thing.” Ron said. “She’s not in any of the other photos.”

“You’re looking for her specifically?” Justin asked him. 

“I think she left me a note, but she didn’t leave her name or anything.” Ron sat down staring down at the image. “Is there another gala or event coming up?”

“Actually there is. The charity dinner for the children’s shelter is next week.” He said. 

“I wonder if she’ll be there?” Ron said looking down at her. 

“I thought you didn’t like women?” Justin said with a grin. 

“I like women just fine, what I don’t like is bitches and whores who think they can trade their pussy for jewelry and presents. Prostitutes are more honest then women like that.” Ron specified. 

“You sound like you respect hookers more.” The older man ventured. 

“I do. They are honest with what they expect, and they aren’t demanding. No drama and they always tell you just how it is.” Ron told him. “They don’t lie either, claiming they love you and will do anything for you. If they can’t or won’t do something, they tell you so.” 

“So what about this one?” He asked pointing to the photo. 

“This one is different. She’s hiding and I’d like to know why.” Ron said not taking his eyes from the photo. 

‘And if she turns out to be just like Sara?” Justin focused on Ron, wondering what the answer would be.

“Then I will be able to see the signs right away.” Ron met the publisher’s eyes. “I know what to look for this time around.” 

 

Two days later Ron was in his office, going over some ideas he had for a new book. Some were horrid and he incinerated the parchment, berating himself for thinking of something like that. Other ideas needed to be rethought, and changed around. Ron almost never had an idea spill out of his mind ‘as is’ with no reworking or rough drafts needed. He always saw opportunity to perfect his thoughts. 

He was lost in thought when a tapping brought his attention up to his window. A brown wild owl was perched on the tree outside his home watching him. He gave a confused frown and rose to let the owl in. He watched the bird fly in and settle comfortably on the back of his chair. 

“Waiting for a reply then?” He asked the animal as he took the letter it brought him. He was answered by an affectionate nudge. 

‘I’m sorry if I am disturbing you, I just wanted to know if you received the note I left for you.’

He looked at the owl waiting patiently, then sat behind his desk, taking out a fresh piece of parchment. Quill in hand he wrote. 

‘I did indeed get your note, and may I thank you for the compliment. I am curious as to why you did not approach me at the gala. You seemed, from your two notes to me, to be very polite and intelligent, so why the game of hide and seek? Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you worried I might have one, because I assure you, I do not. Tell me, why are you hiding?’

Satisfied with his words, he attached the letter and watched the owl fly away. He thought for a split second about following the animal, but then changed his mind. She was obviously worried about something so he would respect it for now. She had given him no reason for mistrusting her. The next move was hers. 

 

He had to wait two more days before he found the familiar owl waiting for him when he had returned from the market. He rushed inside letting the owl fly inside before he shut the door. He waved his wand and sent his shopping to the cooler and the cupboards before taking the note.

‘It must have seemed strange to you to receive my notes, but I am very aware of how women upset you at times, and I would never force my presence on you. I only wanted to voice my appreciation of your stunning looks and talent.’

Ron frowned. She was basically admitting she was afraid of his reaction. Approaching him at the gala would have been humiliating if he reacted badly. But asking him to dance or to talk wouldn’t have upset him. If she started talking of a partnership or began flirting he may have thought differently, but this method she had chosen made him think. 

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to be afraid of him. Well, that was partly true. He wanted galleon hunters and sickle sniffers to be apprehensive about approaching him, and he had yet to know her motives or her intent. He wasn’t put off by it, surprisingly. He was intrigued at the fact that she had known his feelings on certain women and she still found a way to make herself known. That showed intelligence, which he admired. 

“You stay right there.” He told the owl and went to his office. In moments he had a note scrawled out and had sent the bird flying off. 

In no time at all the owl landed on a familiar perch and snacked on his filled tray, waiting while a ladylike hand took the letter from him. 

‘It was an eye opener to hear a woman was actually afraid to simply walk up to me. I know I have myself to blame, and I won’t insult you by asking you to understand. Even being nervous about approaching me, you still managed to find a way to talk to me, and I do appreciate it. There is a charity event coming up, and if you will be there, I would like a chance to speak face to face. I will leave it up to you.’

The elegant hand placed the letter on a table and looked out a window, thinking. Behind her an ivory dress and white feather mask hung, untouched in the dim light. She ran a hand along the fabric, tracing the beaded leaves along the hem. Maybe she would wear it again.


	4. Four

  
Author's notes: Meeting the Woman in White  


* * *

Ron hadn’t received any more owls since issuing his invitation. He was now looking forward to the charity dinner with anticipation. He didn’t know if this one would turn out like the others but he wanted the chance to see if she was a real woman. He missed having a partner, and even though she was acting, coming home to Sara had been a delight while he was in the dark. 

Maybe this woman would be a lady, not a shrew. Maybe this one was worth it. He hoped so. He had enough of liars, and users, and backstabbers. He wanted someone genuine. He wanted someone to love, but he wanted someone who wanted him, not just the newfound wealth or the newfound connections. 

He dressed with care, making sure he was pressed and straightened and not a loose thread in sight. His hair, while always slightly shaggy, was somewhat tamed. His robes, as usual, simple and classic, without peacockish displays. He left his home feeling confident and feeling optimistic for the first time in nearly a year. 

 

The charity dinner was opulent without being overdramatic. There were masks again, and again Ron went without. He ate his dinner half heartedly, looking around constantly for the woman in white. He had assumed she would have on the same mask, but what if she didn’t? He had taken the photo from Justin and enlarged her, making out slight details as best he could. 

He had managed to eliminate several woman in attendance simply because they were the wrong height or the wrong build. Some had breasts far too big to be the woman in questions and others had no breasts to speak of. Some were too broad in the shoulders or stooped when they stood. He only sighed as the night went on and he kept looking. 

“You seem distracted.” He turned and saw a woman with elegant blond hair and a perfectly made up face sit beside him. She was wearing a red dress that clung to her frame, but Ron could tell right away, that this wasn’t his lady. The chin was pointier and her lips were larger. The woman in white had a rounder chin and petite cupid bow lips. She also didn’t have the practiced pout this woman had. Ron turned his attention back to his search. “Looking for someone in particular?” She asked leaning closer, showing off obviously enhanced cleavage. 

“A woman.” Was all Ron said as he continued to look around the room. 

“Look no further, you found one.” She said with a giggle. Ron rolled his eyes and looked back at her. “My name is Lucy.” She offered a hand but Ron just sneered at her. “You are…..?”

“Not interested.” He said and looked over the room again. 

“Playing hard to get?” She said forcing another chuckle. “You’ve been here by yourself all night. Something must really have your attention…..”

Her words had died out in his ears as his heart sped up. There she was. Same dress. Same mask. She was standing over near a statue at the other end of the room and looking at him. He rose and walked over to her, leaving the stunned Lucy to merely watch him leave.

He kept his eyes on her, afraid she may vanish if he looked away for a mere moment. She didn’t move. She stayed where she was as he approached the statue and looked down at her. She smelled like roses. Not the elaborate, expensive foreign perfumes most woman chose. This was simple, delightful roses. 

“You came.” He said, giving her a smile. 

She nodded and gave him a small smile. Her lips were subtle, and most likely only dressed with a lip balm. He could see her eyes in the mask, a pale grey. 

“You came alone?’ He asked. Again she only nodded, but she didn’t look away. 

The music from the band began to slow down and the lights dimmed just a little. “Would you like to dance?” He asked holding out a hand. 

She gave him another smile and took his hand. Her dainty little hand fit into his perfectly, as they walked to the floor. He took her in his arms and they moved slowly to the music. She could have easily rested her head on his shoulder, he was a head taller then her. Taller, he thought, if she took off her heels.

“What’s your name?” He asked. She looked down and averted her eyes. 

“You won’t tell me?” She shook her head and looked up at him shyly. Ron could see the nervousness in her eyes. 

“I’m not angry if that’s what you are worried about.” He said. “You don’t have to tell me your name.” She relaxed in his arms and he couldn’t resist bringing her close, so their chests were pressed close. 

As they danced Ron felt her cuddle close to him. He looked down at her eyes again. “Are you afraid of me? Is that why you won’t tell me your name?” She shook her head just once and in addition to her answer, gave his hand and shoulder a squeeze.

Ron smiled down at her, returning with a squeeze around her waist. “Are you married, is that why you won’t tell me your name?” He thought it might be a long shot, but then again he had been pursued by a few married women.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and shook her head. “Alright, alright. I didn’t think you were.” He gave her another squeeze.

The music started to change tempo. “Will you come outside with me for some fresh air?” She nodded and took the arm he offered.

They walked along the gardens, each hedge filled with charmed tea lights to give off a gentle light. A few other couples were wondering about looking for private niche to sneak into. 

Ron led her to a bench next to a fountain. A elfin fairy was frozen in stone pouring a jug of water into a pool of bathing birds. She settled herself and watched as he straddled the bench, facing her. She crossed her legs, playing with her fingernails in her hands. 

“Do I make you nervous?” He asked. She looked at him for a moment, and then gave a nervous shrug of her shoulders. 

“But you aren’t afraid of me though, right?” He probed. She gave him another small smile, and shook her head. 

“You said in your note that you heard of my opinion of women….” she nodded, “have you heard why I think this way?” 

She looked away and tilted her head non-committedly. “You’ve heard some of it?” He asked. She gave him a nod. 

“No doubt you heard that a woman treated me badly.” He said. 

She nodded then gestured to her heart. Holding out both hands, she signed a breaking gesture. Ron nodded and let out a breath. “Yes, she broke my heart. But it wasn’t just any woman, it was my fiancé.” 

He saw her eyes widen and her lips parted as she let out a light gasp. “Yes, I was a joke. She actually only wanted to deflower the last of the Weasley men. She wasn’t expecting me to fall in love for her. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. She wouldn’t have to work or anything. She could relax and live the life she wanted.”

She reached out and took his hand, then reached with her other hand and pulled her wand from where it had been hiding in one of her dress folds. Her wand was covered in a white feather that curled around it. She really had concealed all aspects of her identity and it made Ron smile. 

With a flick of her wrist words appeared in thin air and hovered for a moment. ‘She didn’t know what she had.’ The words vanished into smoke and drifted away. 

“Thank you.” He said, cradling her hand in both of his. “Please tell me your name.” 

She looked away and tried to pull her hand from his but he held it firmly. “I’m sorry. I won’t ask. If it makes you comfortable, then you keep your secret.” 

She relaxed and inhaled, letting it out in a slow breathe. “Have you know me long?” He asked. 

She looked over and nodded. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. “Have you know me before I left for Ireland?”

She nodded again. He was going to ask her as many questions as he could, she would have to think carefully before asking. He looked around then back. “Did you attend Hogwart’s when I did?” 

She thought carefully. If she answered him he would be closer to figuring out who she was, but then again she didn’t have to tell him what year or what house. She looked back where he was waiting patiently. Smiling, she gave him a nod. 

He smiled back. “Same year?” She merely smiled and looked back at him. “Same house?” He ventured. She just kept smiling. 

“Well, you appear to be close to me in age, so you could be a year of two older or younger.” She looked to the sky and then back at him, acknowledging that it was indeed possible.

“But you could be from any house. Working hard to make sure you give nothing away could put you in Hufflepuff, the disguise is cleaver enough to put you in Ravenclaw. The fact that you know how I feel about most women and you still found a way to contact me makes your brave enough to be a Gryffindor. But the fact that you are teasing me with subtle information, so you have the upper hand mean you could just be a Slytherin.” 

Her eyes shifted about as she thought about each point he made. Her eyes widened and she nodded with pressed lips, agreeing with his words. He smiled at her and she returned it. “Did you come here tonight because I mentioned it?” He asked softly. 

She looked to her feet and gave him a small nod, peaking at him from behind her mask. Ron thought that smile of her was adorable. He reached up for her mask, but her hands came up faster, stopping him. 

Ron saw that the smile was gone, and her eyes were focused on him. He reached again for the mask, this time her hands caught his and she stood up turning her back and rushing off. She only got a few feet away when her shoulders were caught in his strong hands. 

“I’m sorry, please stop.” She let him turn her so she faced him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to take it off. I apologize. Will you come sit down again?” 

She looked up at him and wanted to but was afraid he would try it again and she couldn’t let him. She wasn’t ready for that, she was too scared and insecure to let him see who she was. 

She looked into his eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his had filled her thoughts before. He filled her dreams at night and her fantasies during the day. He was a man’s man in every sense of the word and she was nowhere near the glamorous woman that matched him. Even transforming herself into the woman in white took effort and time. 

She lifted her hands to his shoulder and lifted her lips. Ron leaned down and took the kiss she offered. He thought her lips were soft and succulent, she thought his were strong yet tender. He wasn’t forceful or demanding, he let her kiss him as she wanted. 

She pulled away after a moment, wishing she could give him a deep, heated, wet snog, but she couldn’t. If she did, she would through herself at him and that would be too embarrassing. 

She caressed his cheek then hurried away. Ron could see the battle in her eyes, and decided not to push her. He watched her strappy white heels carry her away, wanting to follow but holding himself in check. She would contact him, he knew she would. At least he hoped she would.


	5. Five

  
Author's notes: Letters exchanged  


* * *

Ron waiting anxiously for three days before that familiar owl landed in his yard. He eagerly fed the owl a tray of treats and smiled at the bird snacked and waited. Opening the letter he focused on the elegant script. 

‘You have no idea how much of a dream it was to dance in your arms. I always knew you had strong arms and being held made me feel like such a lady. I also want to say that I am sorry for refusing to remove the mask, but I just cannot. You asked it I was afraid and I do admit that I am. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about how you view women. I don’t want you to think of me in that light, but it is also something else. I am not anywhere on the level of beauty that matches the women you have been seen with. The elegance and opulence you saw at the charity dinner was the result of hard work. I am simple, and plain and insecure in many ways. Seeing you look at me as you would a beautiful woman was a fantasy come true. I can still feel your kiss. Thank you from granting me that.’

Ron let his hand ease down to his lap. She thought she was plain and out of his circle. She thought she was pretty enough, but she didn’t know him very well. After Sara, Ron had his fill of painted up women and dressed up dolls. Give him a woman in jeans who wanted to go flying any day. 

He looked over at the owl, still waiting. He moved to his office and began to write. 

‘My dear lady, you make me feel so shamed of myself. I do not look at women by how they appear or how they make me appear. After my former fiancé, I have learned my lesson very well. I like a woman who likes comfort and not couture. I like to fly and walk in forests, something I had not done with my ex because she would rather be at parties or with friends. She would not have walked in the gardens with me like you did. That simple gesture meant a lot to me.   
I am sorry for pushing you to take the mask off and I hope you will forgive me, but why won’t you tell me who you are? I have never had a woman afraid of me before. Angry, yes. Irritated, of course. Annoyed, more then anything. But not afraid. Tell me who you are.’

He fastened the letter to the owl and again watched it fly away. The next several days were filled with a back and forth correspondence between them, learning about each other, or as much as he could learn of her as she would let him. 

 

‘I have known you for some time, you are right in assuming that we are close in age, and we did spent quite a few years there together, but we did not associate. Our friends were in different circles. I will however say that we did have different houses and that is all I will say about school.  
I will again say that I do not want you to assume that I am after your money or your name. I have always found you honest and the perfect gentleman, I only wish to be around that gentleman, nothing more. I am afraid that I might do something to earn your animosity, and I can’t risk that. I don’t want to make any mistakes that would put me in the category of woman that hurt you. I would kill me to be seen in your eyes that way.’

 

‘I appreciate your honesty more then anything. After being lied to for so long, I value the truth, even if it a truth that puts me in a bad light. I know the things I have said to women lately makes me seem misogynistic but I am not. I abhor women who use men for entertainment, however that is not one sided. I detest men who behave this way as well. Honesty and truth is always rewarded. My former fiancé laughed about me to her friends. Would I be a joke to you? Have you told any friends about the trick you played on me? If this is not your intention then you have nothing to fear from me. If we had been at Hogwarts together as long as you say then you would have known the young man I was. I appreciated honesty then, and I still do. I am more cautious now however, having been through my experiences. I am sure you can relate to lessons life may have taught you. To be honest, you fascinate me. I am curious and I want to know more.’ 

 

‘Yes, I knew the young man you were, anxious to experience everything and always forgiving. I hate that this woman you were with used you in a horrible way. I would treasure you as the jewel you are. There are so many men who cheat, and lie, and abuse the women they are with. This was one of the reasons I always found you so attractive. You treated girls with such a respect and chivalrous manner that it was so enduring and it fed my fantasies and daydreams for several years. The man you are now has given me more food for daydreams and fantasies. You are the man I had always envisioned you would be.’

 

‘You talk about daydreams and fantasies but you have yet to ask me anything. You must want to know something. There must be some wish I could grant. There must be some dream that you have had over the years that has become a torture. I want to see you again. You haven’t said you would meet me. Pick a time, pick a place, I will be there. Anywhere. I will be the perfect gentleman in every way.’

 

The woman in white set the letter down, and calmed her shaking hands. He was right, there was something that had become a torture for her. There was something that drove her mad with wanting and yearning. Should she ask? She couldn’t ask for that. Maybe she should just tell him what it is? She didn’t have to ask for it. Telling him would answer his question and she had yet to think of a place to meet him. She didn’t know if she could. What would they do. She couldn’t talk but she could interact with him. 

 

‘I am thinking of a place to meet where I can be comfortable. I do want to meet you, and rest assured I am thinking of a way. You were correct in thinking that I have a long lingering fantasy and I do. I blush even as I write this and I do admit that I have dreamed countless times of intimate situations. Waking up in your arms after a long night. Being held flesh to flesh. It’s something that has caused many restless nights and many heated afternoons. I cannot imagine how this will be greeted, but you asked and I answered.’

 

The letter fell to Ron’s feet. He was now sporting the biggest erection he had in months. The memory of her body against his while they danced filled his head. She wanted to sleep with him, did she? Well, he was more then alright with that. He’d even let her keep the mask on if she wanted. Maybe once she’d had him, she would tell him who she was. 

He thought again of how she tried so hard to keep herself a secret. He wanted to know. He had to know. No woman had ever gone to this much trouble to show him how she felt. The fact that she did it to make sure he knew she wasn’t using him endeared him all the more. This was a unique woman and he’d be a fool to let her just slip away without trying. 

 

“My dear woman in white, you have no idea how that letter turned me on. To have you in my arms again would be such a joy. Dancing with you felt so right and I would love the chance to hold you again. Flesh to flesh is an interesting phrase to use. I only held your hand in the gardens and I want more. You will meet me then? You said you were thinking of a place for us to meet. I want to invite you to my home. Come to my house and let me make that dream of yours come true. Let me hold you in the night. Set whatever rules you want. I will follow them all.’

 

She let the letter fall into her lap as she collapsed in a chair. Her breathe was labored. He was willing to give her anything she asked for. All she had to do was agree. 

She took a deep breathe in. What she had dreamed and wished for over the years was at her fingertips. All she had to do was reach out and take it. She had only to write to him and tell him yes. 

Would it be everything she imagined it would be? Would he be the lover of her dreams? Would he be pleased with her? Would he enjoy her? Or would he dismiss her as inexperienced and worthless.

To have a single night in his arms, the risk would be worth it. She could always leave before he woke. She could always find a moment to slip away. That would be the safe way out. The risk of his rejection in the morning was too great. Slipping away was the best thing to do. 

He even said he would follow her rules. She smiled to herself. She could have it all. She could have her night and she could safely leave before she became a disappointment. 

‘You have convinced me to take a chance. Tell me where to go tomorrow night. Do not try to remove my mask. Do not place any anti-apparition charms on your home. Please leave your wand in full view on a table and safely out of hand. Do not bother preparing any food or drinks, I won’t accept them. Do not use sex as a weapon, and torture me to reveal my secrets. Promise me that you will help me keep my secret and I will join you.’

 

Ron read the letter several times. She honestly considered that he might slip her a potion or curse to find out who she was. He felt guilt fill him. After he had tried to remove her mask, no doubt she thought he might try harder. Never in his life had a woman mistrusted him so much. Lately his words had caused hatred from the fairer sex but he was still honest with how he felt. Brutally honest yes, but still he gave no reason for mistrust. His word was always kept, no matter what. 

He had no control over how someone interpreted his words. If this panic was what he had caused then he had to fix it. He had to make it right. He quickly wrote out a letter. 

‘I know that you are more cautious now, because I tried to remove your feather, but that is my fault. These are the rules you have given me and I will follow them all, I promise. You will have no reason to worry. I will make no attempt to know you, except physically. I will make this dream come true and maybe then, you will have a reason to trust me. Maybe after tomorrow night you can feel free to tell me your name. That is all I ask.’

Ron sent the letter off with his address and began preparing his house for the following night. Tomorrow at 8, she would be his.


	6. Six

  
Author's notes: Meeting  


* * *

She showered with a combination of nervousness and patience. She wasn’t sure if this was right, but she couldn’t say no. she thought over and over about writing and canceling, saying the anxiety was too much. She even began a letter but then tossed it into the fire. If she cancelled saying she was too nervous, he might think she was playing a game with him, and refuse to acknowledge her again. This may be her only chance to be intimate with him, and she would be a fool to let it pass her by.

She bathed in scented bubbles, covered her body with lotion in the same scent, then a spritz of the matching perfume. She shaved her pussy so he wouldn’t know what color her hair was. She thought about taking a potion to change her eyes, but it would have been pointless, with the way he was looking at her at the event.

She slipped into her dress and pulled her mask over her head. She waved her wand and charmed the mask in place. It felt weightless and comfortable. It wouldn’t come off in any way, the spell made sure of it. It wouldn’t come off unless it was removed by her hand. 

She gave a last look in the mirror and secured her wand in it’s feather costume and inhaled deeply. It was time, she thought and apparated from her home. 

 

Ron had cleaned everything and made sure he had a bottle of champagne ready in case she needed a drink or was nervous. He would offer to watch him open it, even if she refused anyway. He also made sure the clothes he would wear were cleaned and pressed. He had selected plain black trousers and a plain blue shirt. The cuffs were unbuttoned and rolled up to just past his elbows leaving his forearms free. He left his feet bare of shoes or socks as he did frequently at home. He left his want on the table in front of his fire. He had promised himself, he would not use it at all.

He was freshly showered and ready half an hour before she was supposed to arrive. He was nervous. That surprised him. He didn’t know who she was or why she had chosen him, but that fact that she pursued him this way gave his ego a boost. 

The clock slowly ticked on and on until his heart exploded at the sound of a knock on the door. He quickly rose and forced his body to calm down. Opening the door he let her in. She was in the same white dress and mask. He knew she would be but he had hoped for a moment that she would come mask less. So much for that hope.

“Please, come in.” He said standing aside. 

She gave a small smile and entered. Her perfume filled his nose. The same potent roses from the last time. He watched her as she looked around, taking in her surroundings. “Would you like some champagne?” He asked. “I know you said not to have any, but it’s new and the seal hasn’t even been broken. I will open it without magic if you want.”

She took a moment to think and then gave him a nod, watching closely as he opened the bottle, pushing the cork out with a loud pop and pouring two glasses. She took a sip, letting the chilled drink calm her down somewhat. He was so good looking in his casual attire, his bare feet and strong forearms, and his barely touched hair. She imagined he just ran his fingers through it after his shower. She wanted to run her own fingers through it. 

He watched her closely, seeing her relax slightly. Ron set down his own glass and walked over to her. He knelt down and removed one dainty heel, then the other. He saw the difference in her height when he stood up. 

He looked in her eyes, those same grey eyes he had seen before. “Will you come with me to my bedroom?” He asked quietly, taking her hand. 

She gave his fingers a light squeeze and nodded. Ron walked her back to his room. He had made sure it was cleaned and neat, fresh sheets on his bed. He remembered her pale skin and made his bed up with black bedding to highlight her whole body, she deserved it. 

He closed the door faced her. She was still nervous but not as much. She wanted this as much, and she was so afraid of doing something stupid. She wasn’t a virgin but she was hardly the sexual dynamo. She had never seduced anyone before and as Ron looked at her she felt her courage waning. 

“Are you sure about this,” he asked reaching for her hand, “you seem reluctant.” 

She nodded and gave his fingers a squeeze. She hadn’t planned on speaking and wasn’t about to change that decision but she wanted to reassure him. Taking her feather covered wand out from the hiding place in her dress skirts, she waved it across the nearby wall and spelled out her response. 

‘Not reluctant, just nervous. I’ve wanted this for so long. I don’t want to do anything wrong.’ The words vanished as soon as Ron had finished reading them. 

“You won’t do anything wrong.” He said slipping his arms around her waist. “Normally I would tell you just to talk to me, to tell me what you enjoy, but since you don’t want to that, you will have to move my hands where you want them, or move them away if something makes you uncomfortable. Can you communicate with me that way?” He asked. He hated the idea. Ron liked a woman who talked to him, but she wasn’t giving anything of her identity away.

She nodded and smiled. He lowered his lips and kissed her. Her lips were soft and he moved his mouth over hers with tenderness. Pulling her body close he felt her hands slide up his arms and she returned his kiss with just as much tenderness.

Ron felt a new desire seep through him. The women he had been with before, including his former fiancé, had been somewhat aggressive in nature, anxious, experienced and wholeheartedly took part in sex. This woman in his arms was different. She was responding to him, but she was relaxed and slow, taking the time just to kiss him and enjoy it. 

It was new to him, having a woman who took in everything she was feeling with him. If she was anxious to move on, she didn’t show it. He had a feeling he could kiss her all night and she would be satisfied. He, however, wouldn’t be and he would openly admit that he wanted to move on. 

Tightening his hold on her waist, he lifted her from the floor and walked with his treasure to his bed, setting her down and kneeling. He carefully lifted her foot, taking time to caress her bare ankles. Her skin was smooth and felt like silk under his fingers. 

She let his hands work their magic, relaxing under his touch. He would be just as passionate as she knew he would be. He ran his hands along her legs up to her knees, sending the most delicious sensations up her body. 

He rose on his knees, running his hands higher, under her dress giving her thighs a gentle squeeze. She let out the cutest sigh and it made him smile. She reached out and cradled his jaw in her hand, feeling the freshly shaven skin. He let her touch him, holding still as she brought up the other hand and held his face with both hands.

Her touch was feather light but Ron felt it. He watched her eyes dart around taking in his features. He didn’t know that she was merely memorizing every detail, in case she was never again this close to him. Her thumb brushed his eyebrow, and drifted down his cheek. When she brushed over his lips, they parted just a little and she couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Dropping her lips she kissed him, still holding his face in her hands, not wanting to relinquish the prize she finally had in her grasp. Ron didn’t seem to mind and kissed her back with a newfound heat. His jaw moving under her hands turned her on. 

Her thighs parted and Ron wasted no time sliding between them, groping her succulent thighs, and plundering her lips. She hugged him with her limbs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him close. She felt like crying. She had fantasized about this many times and now it was happening. It was almost too much to handle. 

Ron could sense her need building and he was more then willing to feed it. He pulled from her lips, gently sucking her bottom lip as he pulled away. She was breathing with more stress, her chest expanded and her lips were swollen. 

Ron wanted to mount her at that moment and bury himself inside her, but he also wanted to move slowly. This woman was basking in his attentions and he was going to oblige her. Then anxiety crept up inside him like stealth samurai in the back of his head. What if his performance lacked? What if she was expecting something and he didn’t deliver? She wasn’t talking to him so how would he know? The only way he would know is if she moved his hands like she said she would, but that didn’t reassure him. He liked women who talked. 

Well, he thought to himself, he would have to focus on her all the more. He reached up and, gently holding her shoulder, eased her onto her back. Reaching under her dress he felt the lacy band of her knickers and pulled them off tossing them aside. He reached over her reclined body and took the straps of her dress, sliding the fabric down her arms. 

Her nipples puckered as her breasts were exposed to the cool air. Ron wanted to take those nubs in his mouth, but he had something else planned for the moment. He would give her girls their attentions soon enough. He pulled the dress past her hips and off her legs. 

Ron smiled at the sight he saw. Parting her legs he looked closer at the bare lips, already slick with yearning. He gave a light chuckle as he caressed her thighs. “You removed your curls.” He said, quickly stripping off his shirt. “You really don’t want me to have any clue as to who you are, do you?” 

She bit her lip, and for a moment Ron thought she might be thinking of answering, but she let out a sigh as he ran his thumb over her pussy. She was soft and her lips moistened even more. He hooked her knees over his bare shoulders, turning to place a kiss on the inside of her thigh. 

He saw her chest rise and fall as his fingers caressed her pussy. He felt her leg tighten and release on his shoulder, responding to his licks and kisses to her thigh and up to her knee. “If you’ve known me from Hogwart’s,” he kissed his way down her limb, keeping her leg in place, “then you should know that by reputation,” he kissed the mouth just over her pussy, “I have a healthy appetite.”

She gasped as he buried his face in her pussy, her legs widened on their own and she gripped his bed sheet in her fists. Ron had never tasted anything so sweet. He gave her deep, long thrusts of his tongue, lapping at her juice. He slipped two fingers into her, palm up and bicycled his digits. 

She tossed her head from side to side, feeling the pressure in her belly building. Ron found her swollen clit with his tongue and worked his woman into a frenzy. Her honest reaction as ecstasy rolled over her was music to his ears. She didn’t hold anything back. She gave him all of herself, reaching down and cradling his head to her core, hugging his shoulders with her knees. A new aroma filled his nostrils, and a new taste filled his mouth and she arched her back as tremors racked her body. 

She cried out loudly. It was the first time she was audible and he loved it. She had a fairy’s voice, so feminine and filled with the tension of her orgasm. It filled Ron’s soul to hear her achieve that. He massaged away the twitches in her legs as he rose and kissed his way up her body. 

She was the most delectable treat he had every partook in, and if he had his way he would partake in it again. He climbed over her, helping her slide her body further up the bed. He reached her breasts, hard and peaked from her climax, and took them in his hands, feeling the softness. He buried his face in-between them and inhaled deeply, pressing the flesh against his cheeks. 

He felt her hands bury in his hair, hugging him closer. Her legs came up along side his body, her feet turned inward, circling around his thighs. She hugged him tighter as he took a nipple in his mouth, rolling the people around with his tongue. She let out little sighs and arched her back, offering him more. 

Ron took the other one in his mouth, reaching up to run his hand through her hair but all he felt was feathers. Then she stiffened in his arms and pushed on his shoulders. He rose up and looked in her eyes. 

‘I wasn’t trying to take it off.” He said, calmly. “I like touching hair, and for a moment forgot about the mask. I wasn’t trying to take it off, I promise.”

She watched him intently, then relaxed. She believed him, but he knew he couldn’t make that mistake again. When her arms came back around him, and she gave him a slight nod, he lowered his lips and kissed her. Sliding around to her neck, he tasted her skin and listened to her sighs fill his ears. 

She began pulling on his shoulders, and groping his back, letting her hands slid down his spine and his ass. Ron had never been more turned on. The way she was touching him was erotic as hell. His previous partners hadn’t been this aggressive in regards to returning his caresses. They had been more then generous with allowing him to explore them anywhere, and his ex had touched him because she knew he liked it, but this woman wanted to touch him. It was evident in how she fondled his body and it made Ron rock hard. 

She was naked beneath him and he was shirtless, but still in his jeans. Her grip on his ass was becoming firmer and he sucked in a breath when her hand came around between them and her palm slid over his cock. He buried his face in her neck, lifting his hips so she could pry open his jeans. 

She thrust her hands inside once she had the button and zipper opened. Ron’s groan in her ear fed her own lust. Knowing that he enjoyed her touch made her feel sexy. He was long and think in her hands, throbbing and hot. She felt a warm lubrication on her fingers as she rolled her thumb over the head. 

Ron’s chest pressed against hers as he panted. She was merely exploring him, but every touch drove him mental. She had one hand wrapped around the base, squeezing gently, memorizing the thickness. The other hand was opening and closing around the tip, feeling ever stretch of skin. 

Ron’s groans grew as he reached down with his own hand and palmed her pussy. She let out a groan that matched his own and together they touched each other until they were a pair of writhing bodies, arching into each other. 

It was too much for her, she needed more. She titled her head and brought her lips to his ear. “Take them off.” She whispered. It was a barely audible whisper but he heard it and obeyed with lightning speed. Stripping off the offending jeans and pushing them off his legs. 

He looked down at her. Her legs were parted for him, and she was holding her arms out to him. Her lips were still open and plump from his kisses and her breasts were rising and falling as she panted, her hard nipples teasing him.

He lowered his body back into her welcoming embrace. Her arms and legs wrapped around him and the kiss they shared was full of hunger. She was sure her lip had been bitten but she was beyond caring at the moment. 

His cock found her pussy on it’s own. Pausing just a moment to bask in the feel, he probed her entrance, watching as her body stilled, waiting just like she was for the moment they had each anticipated. 

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he submerged himself inside her, listening to her whimpers as he filled her up. Never before had Ron seen this reaction. Women enjoyed him and he enjoyed women, but this woman looked like she was in Elysium. She held his body with all her limbs and panted while he held himself still, fully sheathed. 

She was the sweetest embrace he had ever felt and he fought for control with himself. The urge to drive into her and lose himself to abandon was tempting, but so was the idea of slowly spending time and savoring what she was giving him. 

He pulled out slowly and sank in just as slowly, listening to her moaning under him. It was the sexiest thing Ron had ever seen. This was a woman focused on nothing but the feelings he was bringing out. 

He began a slow easy rhythm, watching her face as passion took her over. She rolled her head back and forth, arched her back and started thrusting up into him, quickening his pace. He gave her what she wanted, moving with her mingling his own moans as she clung to him. 

She locked her ankles at the small of his back, pulling him deeper. She was drowning in unbelievable sensations, and she couldn’t get enough. She felt the buildup in her body and reached out for it. She knew what she needed, knew what it would take to bring about her rapture. She searched out his eyes and locked with him as he rocked his body over hers. She saw the lust in his eyes and she knew he would want to know what she craved. 

Reaching up and grabbed the wrist he had planted beside her head and yanked down on it. Balancing his weight on this other arm, he let her guide his hand down their bodies, thrusting it between their hips. He grinned and took over, his fingers searching out her clit, swollen and tense with need. 

She cried out as he found and rolled her clit. She thrust upward with her hips harder, fucking him from underneath, hugging his shoulders tighter. Ron was close to losing it and it took will power to keep control. 

She couldn’t take it anymore and found herself screeching as she was hurled over the edge of oblivion. Lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheted through her whole body. Her arms hurt from squeezing him so tightly, and her legs twitched but she didn’t release him. 

Ron felt her clamp down on him and spasm around his cock as her orgasm racked her body. It was too much for his control and he let go, feeling his sac tighten and release. He groaned out loudly and arched, throwing his head back and clenching his teeth. He spewed forth into her and thrust deeply, impaling her with everything he had. 

Soon the only sound in the room was heaving panting of two exhausted lovers. Ron collapsed over her, burying his face in her neck. He couldn’t move a muscle if his left nut was in danger. She was laying under him, her legs and arms dropped in weightless surrender. She rested her cheek against his head, not minding his heavy body at all. 

Ron’s thoughts however were running wild. He had to find out who she was now. He had to know. This woman was something special and he knew they would be good together. This passion didn’t come around every day and even the woman he thought he would marry didn’t make him feel like this. He wanted a more complete connection with her. He wanted to know her name, see her face, look at her while they made love again. 

He was sure he could find out. She had to have felt what he felt. She must realize now that they had something worth continuing. He had to convince her of that, and he would do what he had to, in order to make her see that. He would start in the morning. He would talk seriously to her then. 

Content in his thoughts, he let sleep take over, cradled by the woman under him. 

 

Ron woke the next morning, smiled and reached over for the body he had slept up against, but found nothing. The bed was cold and when he rose he saw that it was empty. He looked to the floor and saw her clothes and shoes were gone. The only trace of her that lingered was a single white feather resting on his black pillow.


	7. Seven

  
Author's notes: Trying to reconnect  


* * *

Ron waited for three days for an owl from his woman in white. He never left his house, staying and looking in vain for an owl that never showed. He found himself sinking into a depression and didn’t like it. He thought of revenge against her for hurting him, but couldn’t think of anything to revenge against. She never lied to him. She never told him anything would come of their encounter. She gave him a night, but she never assumed it would turn into something more. 

Ron had been sitting in the same armchair for the better part of the afternoon. His desperation was reaching an all time high. Rising up he reached for his cloak and stormed from his home. Within moments he was at his publisher’s office. A stunned Pansy Parkinson only nodded when he rushed forward and asked if Justin was available. 

“Ron, what a surprise……..” He started but was cut off. 

“When’s the next publishing or charity event?” Ron demanded. 

“There is a gala coming up to announcing upcoming releases and announcements, but you don’t usually…….”

“Put out the word that I will be there, and send me the information.” Before Justin could reply he was gone. Ron was more determined now then ever. After the night he had with her, there was no doubt in his mind that he had found his woman. He only needed to make her see it. 

 

The gala event was held a week later at a very posh hotel. Every publisher and promoter was in attendance as well as reporters getting stories on books due out and news on projects in the works. 

Ron was very close lipped to anyone wanted to interview him, saying that he did have something planned, and would make his own announcements when the project was ready to move to the next step. 

His eyes were moving about the room searching out anything in white. He avoided being drawn into conversation by moving slowly around the room, always looking for his woman. 

His whole body awaken when he saw the familiar feathers watching him. When she knew he had found her, she walked to the dance floor and waited until he reached her. 

“Why did you leave?” He asked, as they swayed to the music. When she lowered her head, his impatience began to show. “Whisper if you have to, but please talk to me.”

“I’m afraid.” She whispered. Her words were barely audible but he heard them. She was trying very hard to disguise her voice and he could have told her that she didn’t have to, he still had no clue who she was. 

“Afraid of what?” He asked, lowering his head to listen closely. 

“I don’t want to be one of those women who you end up hating. I can handle you not knowing who I am, but to be rejected is something that would kill me.” He heard the emotion in her whispers and it went straight to his heart. 

He took her hand in his and led her outside, where a calm and warm evening greeted them. Moving to one of the terrace pillars he pulled her behind one of the huge curtains that was decorating the corners. 

“Take off the mask.” He told her, holding firmly onto her shoulders. Her eyes held panic for a brief moment. “I won’t take it off, but I want you to.”

“Why can’t you let what happened be a wonderful memory?” she said, still whispering, “I know I will.”

‘How can you say that? Didn’t you feel what I felt?” He asked, glaring down at her. 

“Yes, I did,” her whisper was louder but still a whisper, “and it’s a feeling I have wanted for so long. Please don’t ruin it for me.” She was begging him and it hurt Ron’s very soul.

“What about me and my feelings? You can’t share with me what we had and then take it away.” He pulled her body closer to his. “You’re torturing me.”

“That was never what I wanted.” She said. 

“What did you want then? A quick hump?” He taunted. 

“No.” She said firmly, her whisper forgotten and a vocal word proved her point. She met his eyes and they told him the truth, but he needed this. 

“Then prove it. Take off the mask.” He said. 

“No,” the whisper was back, “I won’t be one of those women who use you for their own gains. I wanted you, Ron and only you. It didn’t matter what you did for a living, or how much of a fortune you made for yourself, Ron Weasley was always a man of honor, a true gentleman in every way and that’s who I wanted.” He continued to look down at her. 

“I came here for you.” He said. 

“I know, that’s why I showed up, but I want to remember what we had. A passion at it’s best. I suppose I’m too scared to risk that things will turn ugly.” She tried to pull away but he held her firmly. “I don’t want to think that eventually it will all end in the worst way because of some stupid thing I said or some way I may have hurt you.”

“Isn’t something special worth risking?” He wasn’t about to give up on her. He had her talking, admitting her feelings. He only needed to try harder. 

For the longest moment she just looked at him. He wanted to hope but he knew that she was about to smash that hope into a million pieces. A tear rolled down her cheek under the mask. “I wasn’t in Gryffindor house Ron, I’m not brave.”

Ron was stuck for what to say, the tear had stopped him from thinking. She was truly afraid of risking anything. She reached up and kissed his cheek, taking a moment to hold his jaw in her hands. He wanted to reassure her of everything, to promise that things would be alright, but he knew it would frighten her. 

“I…..” He couldn’t form a word. He tried hard to think of something to keep her in his presence. She filled his dreams and he had no idea how to make her stay. He didn’t know what to offer her. He had no idea who she was so it not like he could ask her friends what she wanted or what her dreams were. 

She eased from his arms and walked away. A moment later he heard the loud crack of apprarition and knew she was gone. After some time he left the curtain and apparated to his own home. 

 

For the next two weeks, Ron sank willingly into a depression. He accepted owls but if they didn’t carry notes from the one he wanted to hear from, he didn’t bother replying. His family and friends invited him to this dinner, or that lunch or wondered how he was, but he didn’t care. She wasn’t searching him out so it didn’t matter to him. 

He was filled with thoughts of her day and night and knew that he had held the perfect woman in his arms and she still walked away. He thought of his own actions and how he was vocal about the hurt caused by his former fiancé. Did he push her away by making her afraid? He must have, since she admitted to knowing his character from Hogwarts, but then again his school days were far behind him, and he was a different person now. 

He sighed and fell asleep in his armchair. He was in the same jeans and t shirt he had been wearing for the past two days. He needed a shave, he needed a shower, he needed to stop living on delivery and take away. He needed to clean his house up. All of this didn’t matter though. 

An owl approached his window and tapped for entrance. Ron let it in, but as soon as it was relieved of its letter, the owl took off again. 

Ron felt his heart speed up as he read. 

“My dearest Ronald, I thought very hard over how to say what I need to say but then I realized the only way I could was to just come out with it and tell you. I love you. I have loved you for so many years. I knew the young man who held open doors for women, who held when a lady dropped her books, and who was always willing to offer his help if anyone needed it, who always lent a shoulder to anyone. The young man with the bright ginger hair and the magnificent blue eyes. I could lose myself in those eyes and any woman who doesn’t realize it if deserving of solitude. I know that you were hurt by what she had done to you and I know you are careful with your heart. I would be as well.   
I never dreamed I would be able to find myself in your arms, and you have made years of fantasies come true. That’s why I will never demand anything from you. I will never try to take advantage of anything you have given me. You have shown me what pure magic is, and I will treasure it for the rest of my life.”

Ron held the letter in his lap, staring out into the night. He fell asleep still clutching the letter to his chest. 

 

Three weeks later Ron was still in his self imposed asylum. Harry and Hermione had come by, staring at the unkempt house and the unshaven Ron. He was sporting a full beard and rarely changed from his pajamas. Harry was on the verge of asking when he last washed, but he feared the answer, if the straggly locks hanging from his head were any indication. 

Hermione paid a house elf from Hogwarts to come to Ron’s house and clean up, do his laundry and make him a meal. As Ron ate his first meal in nearly a month that didn’t come in a box, he thought about her. There had to be some way to reach her, some way to find out about her. 

He leaned back in his armchair. The only thing he had extreme talent at was weaving stories into books. Telling tales about things that may or may not have happened. He always changed the outcomes to fit what he wanted…….

“That’s it!” Ron yelled out, sitting upright in his chair.

“Sir?” Ron smiled down at the creature that came running on from the kitchen. 

“I know what to do!” He yelled out and ran to his office, grabbing a blank parchment and scrawling frantically. The elf scratched his head and went back to work.


	8. Eight

  
Author's notes: a revelation  


* * *

Ron had three charmed quills working for the next six hours. The first one floated behind him, scratching away on a levitating parchment as he paced and spoke, gesturing with his hands. The filled parchment then floated to the second quill, which was charmed to search out grammar and spelling errors. The third quill scrawled out a final copy void of scribbles and corrections. 

Ron let the story form in his mind. Instead of a hurtful, spiteful man who was betrayed by his girlfriend, which was too autobiographical, he changed the lead character to a ladies man, successful with any woman he focused his thoughts on. The woman in white was a shy, insecure maid in his regency household. 

While Ron wrote mainly fiction novels and some mysteries, his publisher told him that if he worked on his sex scenes he could easily have the romance genre audience as well. He was joking at the time, but Ron silently thought about it. Romance sold very well, but most publishers didn’t care to target women with love on their minds. However this one could be nothing but a love story, and thus romance at it’s fullest. He would target the female reader, and hopefully, she would see it. Ron was determined to find her again and he would use this story to bring her out. 

The woman in his book would be drawn to the leads character and attended a masked ball to search him out. After a night of intense passion, not unlike the one Ron and his woman shared, he would search her out and when she finally admitted to who she was, they worked on making society accept a maid marrying a man of wealth. The leading man in his book, didn’t care about words, and his close friends would be allies in a strong sense. He made the woman in his book, one who had the support of her man. He wanted to show her that he could be the same way, that he was willing to do whatever it took to see her again. He could only hope that this book would speak to her. That was the main reason he was writing it, to show her that he could be what she needed. He could be her man. 

After a shower and a much needed shave to eliminate the fur coat that accumulated on his jaw, and a wave of his wand to reduce nearly three inches of hair growth, he took the preliminary parchments and went to his publisher’s office. He smiled to Pansy Parkinson, sipping her tea at her desk. “Another best-seller?” She asked returning his smile. 

“It might be, but I have licentious reasons for writing this one.” He said grinning and laughing at her confused expression. “Is he in there?” He asked pointing to Justin’s office.

“Yes, he’s waiting for you.” She told him. 

Less then half an hour later, Justin stopped in the middle of the stack of parchments and looked at Ron. “This is a romance novel.” He said. 

“Yes.” Ron told him. 

“I was just having a go when I said that you know.” He said, still unable to believe what he had read. “You went ahead and wrote a romance novel?”

“Romance novels generate a lot of money. I’m hoping to reach a new reader pool.” He explained. 

“You certainly will.” He said. “Women are going to love this. I have an erection from that last scene.” He dropped his eyes back down to the page. 

“Good.” Ron said rolling his eyes. That wasn’t the reaction he’d imagined from Justin but whatever it took to get this book out there he would deal with. 

They spoke of a possible release date and a schedule for submitting parchments. Ron already had the foundation of the book, he needed only to go back and detail the story. Ron wasn’t daunted though, the story was writing itself and pouring out of him. It would be the fastest he ever wrote. 

“We can send a sample chapter to the artist and get a few cover designs to you also.” Justin told him. 

“That won’t be necessary, I will do the cover.” Ron said. 

“We have an art department Ron.” Justin said looking confused. 

“I’ll do it.” Ron said firmly. Justin threw up his hands and let the matter go. After setting a schedule for submitting sections of the book, they wrapped up the meeting and Ron returned home. 

 

Over the next month Ron appeared at every benefit, gala, charity auction and promotional party that Justin notified him of. He searched out the woman but she was nowhere to be seen. He spoke to every interviewer, giving a quick synopsis of his book, hoping to draw her out of hiding when she read the description he gave to anyone who wanted it. He didn’t hear anything from her, but he didn’t give up hope. It was still early. 

While he submitted chapters to the editor, he also worked on the cover. It didn’t take long, he just took a photo of the very image he had in his head, thinking how it would look on the cover. A single white feather sitting on a black satin pillow. She would know what it meant. She had to. The dedication he planned would also make it clear. 

 

Three months later ’Masquerade’ was released. The book jacket was magnificent, and side by side, the books looked like a huge black satin bed covered in feathers. The first page carried his dedication. It read: ‘To the woman in white, who holds my heart in her hands.’ He made as many appearances as he could and booked as many signings as anyone asked him for. The entire time he was prompting ’Masquerade’, he was searching out the woman in white. He never saw her in the two months that followed. 

 

“This is amazing Ron, all this promoting you’re doing has made this your top seller. Why didn’t you do this with all your books?” Justin asked during a meeting. 

“Umhum.” Ron muttered without enthusiasm, continuing to stare at the carpet. 

“Ron, what’s the matter with you? This book is the most successful you’ve ever wrote. You are talking to everyone who will listen about it and you are depressed as hell.” Justin demanded. 

“What does it matter to you?” Ron asked fixing the man with a glare. 

“Because it’s starting to depress me you ignorant twat!” Justin threw at him.

“Well, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Please forgive me.” Ron said quietly. 

“You don’t do sarcasm that well. Now what it the fucking problem.” Justin asked. 

“The fucking problem is that I haven’t seen her in months, nearly half a years worth of months and counting. I wrote a book about her, showing that I care and she hasn’t sent me one owl.” Ron stared down at the floor again. 

“Are you telling me this is real?” Justin held up the book. 

“Didn’t you read the dedication?” Ron asked.

“I thought you had a girlfriend and wrote her a sexy story. You mean there was a woman who hid her identity?” He was fascinated. 

“Yes, there was. I was hoping that by writing about how it could be then she would write to me again.” Ron explained. 

“You wrote a book just to get a woman to talk to you again?” Justin asked him bewildered. “What are you planning to do if you get he urge to get married?” 

“We won’t know because I can’t get her to contact me again. But I can imagine I would go to extreme lengths in that area as well.” He admitted.

“Why don’t you just send her an owl?”

“That’s a good idea, why don’t I do that? Oh yeah, because I don’t know who the hell she is!” Ron cried out. 

“Alright, alright, no need to test my eardrums.” Justin told him calmly. “Or my tolerance for crap.”

“I am shit out of ideas on how to bring her back, and it’s pissing me off.” Ron rubbed his brow. 

“Why not just ask her publicly to write to you?” Justin suggested. 

“In public, ask the woman I wrote the book about to contact me again? Let’s assume for a moment that women all over the country will not write to me hoping I will be tricked, number one, I would not only be setting myself up for nothing but gossip and a barge-full of charmed letters intent on making me fall in love with the wearer of a certain scent, but the moment it’s known who she is, the press wouldn’t leave her alone.” Ron said. 

“But you would sell a million more books, since everyone would hear about this love story, they will want to read the book that came from it.” Justin said. 

“Do you ever think of anything but making money?” Ron asked closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. 

Justin stood up and placed both hands on his desk, leaning forward. “I’m your fucking publisher asshole!” Before Ron knew it a crumpled up parchment hit him square in the face. 

 

That night among letters, and reviews of his book, Ron reread for the millionth time the last letter she had sent him. In his other hand he held the white feather, twirling it between his fingers. 

He had hoped for some response from her, some owl at least. Nothing. He had received nothing. He was alone now and all he thought about was her. He needed her but she didn’t need him. Maybe she really didn’t need him. Ron let a single tear drop down his cheek and roll down his jaw. 

 

Ron’s book continued to do well. He hadn’t made anymore appearances, having sunk back into his depression. The reviews for his novel were all stellar and he had bags of fan mail, but he wasn’t interested. 

He was once again sporting scruff on his chin but he managed to shave every other day. He sat in his usual armchair while he spoke to his publisher.

“As successful as ‘Masquerade’ was, you won’t have to turn anything out for some time. You can relax if you want.” Justin told him. “Although you could capitalize on the popularity and turn out another one fast. With the sales from this one still high, you could mirror the results in another book.” 

“I don’t want to write at the moment.” Ron told him. 

“If you ever find this woman, remind me to scream at her for the torture I’m going through dealing with you.” He said, shuffling through parchments. “You need to sign these.” 

Ron rose and looked at basic legal papers, recognizing the standard forms he had signed with his other books. He picked up the quill, but frowned. “Justin, you’re out of ink.” 

“Oh shit, it was all those letters this morning. I think Pansy has some in her desk.” He said. 

Ron stepped out of the office, but Pansy was not at her desk. He opened the top drawer but found no ink. He moved to the other drawer and his heart jumped into his throat. Reaching down he took the white feather mask in his hand and brought it out of it’s hiding space. Bringing it to his face, he inhaled. The familiar scent brought back memories of a passion filled night filled his head. 

A gasp brought him back to reality. Pansy Parkinson stood a few feet away, having come back from her errand. The stack of parchments she had been holding now in a messy heap on the floor. 

Their eyes met and Ron felt the whole world go silent. All he heard was her labored breathing. “It was you.” He said, taking a step toward her. Pansy turned and ran down the hall. “Wait!” Ron took off after her.


	9. Nine

  
Author's notes: The Woman in White  


* * *

Ron ran after her, his heart thundering in his chest. She knew the building better than he did and was leading him on a chase. She hurried down hallways toward an exit. He sped up, gaining on her and reached out a hand, wrapping his arm around her waist. Hearing her gasp, he pulled her into an open door and closed them in. It was a nearby closet, filled with cloaks and a few brooms. 

“Why did you do it?” He demanded. “Why did you hide who you were?” He grasped her shoulders and kept her from turning away. 

The tears started, and still she avoided his eyes. He gentled his touch and rubbed her shoulders. “Please tell me.” He said softly. “Don’t hide from me anymore.”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out.” Pansy said through her tears, still looking down. “I never meant for you to know.” 

“Why? We had something special, I know you felt it.” He said, pulling her closer. She lifted her hands to her chest, trying to prevent contact but he still didn’t let her go. 

“We had one night, Ron” She lifted her eyes finally and Ron’s heart broke at her sad, watery eyes. “One night that should have been the end.” 

“It wasn’t enough,” he said, “at least not for me. If you tell me that it was all you wanted, I can leave right now, heartbroken and rejected but I will leave. Was it all you wanted? Can you honestly tell me that you have had enough?” 

Pansy stared at him and let more tears fall. Her fingers, clenched against her chest, were soaked but she couldn’t stop crying. 

“I didn’t think you could. You want more just like I do.” Ron slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, but her hands remained where they were, refusing to return his embrace. “We had something wonderful Pansy and we can have so much more. I know I appeared to be an angry and bitter bastard because of what that woman did to me, but I got over it. I didn’t handle my feelings well, I admit that, but I was hurt. You still found a way to show me that you weren’t like that. You helped me heal, Pansy. You may not think so but you did.”

“I just wanted a way to be close to you.” She said. “I know that after going through what she did to you, it wasn’t going to happen. You hated all women at that point and who was I to tell you that I was different. I knew you would just see me as another opportunist and not me. It was the only way I could think of to be near you.” 

“You made it happen, you made sure of it.” He lowered his head kissing her temple. “You said you loved about me for years, is that true?” 

“Yes.” Her body still shook from crying.

“Do you still love about me?” He asked, lowering again, trying to find her lips, but she turned her head. “Do you?”

“Yes.” She whispered. 

He lifted a hand and eased her chin back to him. “How could I have not noticed those lips.” He murmured to her.

“I’m not the noticeable type. It was stupid to think you would look at me that way. So I made myself into something you would see. I became someone else.” She said. ‘I turned into someone beautiful, that you would look at and want.”

“You are beautiful Pansy, and it took courage to make me see you. It took cunning to put yourself in my path, to change the circumstances around you to what you wanted it to be. I feel like a fool now for not seeing what was in front of me.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “You made me see it though, so why did you keep hiding from me?”

“If I had told you the truth, it would have made you mad that I played a game with you.” She said, turning her head again but he cradled her jaw on his hand and forced her to look back. “I didn’t want to be one of those hated women who used you and then walked away. I couldn’t bare to see rejection and hatred in your eyes.”

“I wasn’t mad, and you could never be one of those women. You never demanded anything. I was flattered that you went to so much trouble to talk to me. I was hurt that you left after we made love.” He saw her blush and smiled. “Yes love, it was more then just sex. I know you see it that way. I even wrote our story.” 

“I know. I have a copy.” She said. 

“Don’t you see how much I wanted to find you?” He said. “I was calling out to you and you didn’t answer. It was killing me.” 

“I didn’t intend for anything like this to happen.” She said. “I never intended for it to go this far.”

“What did you intend?” He asked, backing her up against a wall, pressing his body closer. “What did you want?”

“I thought I might be lucky to get to dance with you and……”

“And…..” he prompted.

“Maybe I’d be even luckier to get a kiss.” She whispered. 

Ron slowly dropped his lips to hers and both lovers felt their bodies ignite. Ron titled his head and parted his lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Pansy’s body went slack and her palms flattened against his chest. 

Ron felt his whole being take flight as her body melted against his and she returned his kiss with the passion he had longed for from that night. They tasted each other with a newfound madness, and Pansy wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

Ron hugged her so tightly that she was lifted clear off the ground. He couldn’t let her go, he wouldn’t let her go. He finally had her and he would make sure she stayed with him. He had to have her. He needed her, his body needed her. He had been without her for too long. He forced himself to set her back on her feet, and pull away from her lips. “Come home with me.” He told her. 

“I can’t,’ she said in a heavy whisper, ‘I have work.”

Ron took her hand and walked out of the closet, heading back to his publisher’s office. Pansy didn’t try to remove her hand, even as they found Justin looking at the feathered mask on Pansy’s desk. He looked up at the approaching couple and gave them a huge grin. 

“Justin, Pansy is going to take the rest of the day off.” Ron told him. 

“Alright then.” Justin said and watched as Ron walked her out the door, after she hurriedly grabbed her purse and wand. 

The moment they were outside Ron apparated them directly to his bedroom. Pansy remembered the smell vividly. Ron never let her go. He frantically pulled at clothing, stirring up her own need and soon she was eager to be naked against him as well. Ron wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around him and hugged him as he brought her over to his bed. 

She fell against the bed and looked up at him. He was perfection in sculpted muscle and she would not deny herself anything now. Sitting up, she opened her legs on either side of him and brought him closer. On his knees in front of her he looked down at her face as she touched him, running her hands along his stomach and chest. She lowered both hands and wrapped her fingers around his cock. 

“Merlin..Pansy….” He gasped out. 

“Don’t you like it?” She asked sweetly. 

“Yes, but……” He swallowed hard as she cradled his sac in one delicate palm. 

“But what?” She asked again. 

“I don’t know how long I will last if you handle me like that.” He admitted. It was true. He hadn’t been with anyone since her, and he knew as much as he wanted her right now, he might cum quickly. 

“Well, we have all night don’t we?” She asked, sliding her hands up and down his length. “We can always try something else.” 

“True.” He admitted, groaning loudly as she squeezed him gently. 

Pansy leaned in and brushed his cock against her cheek, feeling his warm skin caress hers. Looking at him closely, she eased back his foreskin and smiled at the drop of clear liquid that seeped from the eye. She flicked her tongue out and tasted the sweet droplet, wringing out a loud groan from Ron. 

Opening her lips she took his head in her mouth and gently sucked. Hearing him begin to pant was a reward indeed and Pansy responded to his feedback and slid up and down on his cock as she sucked. 

Ron wove his hands in her hair, careful not to push on her head. He dropped his gaze and watched as his cock submerged into her mouth and slid out again, slick with her saliva. Her eyes lifted and met his. Instead of being embarrassed about being watched, she locked her gaze with his and continued, rolling her hand along the base as she continued her oral delights. 

Ron had thought he would never see a sexier site, until she pulled away and a long line of spit connected her lips to his cock. He nearly came right then and there, but Pansy leaned in and took him in her mouth again, this time, sucking him off with a vengeance. He felt his control slipping when she stroked him with one hand, and when she began rolling his sac in the other he felt the build up in his gut.

“Pansy, love, you might want to stop.” He managed to get out, but she didn’t listen. If anything she began more bent on making him cum. He wanted to cum but to him, there was something degrading about spilling himself into her mouth. He took her shoulders and pulled himself out of her mouth, grunting loudly as he came all over her chest, coating her breasts in his juice. 

He dropped back in his haunches, panting and feeling his muscles twitch. He still had Pansy’s shoulders in his hands and he noticed that she didn’t move them. When he managed to open his eyes he saw her sitting patiently, giving him a small smile.

“You sure do spew a lot of man milk.” She said, looking down at the lake that was on resting on her chest. 

“Man milk?” He said giving her a chuckle, as he reached for his wand. “That’s a new one.” With a wave he cleaned her up and eased her onto her back, stretching alongside her. “You didn’t have to do that.” He told her, reaching up and resting his palm on her ribs. 

“I know, I wanted to.” She told him. “What would you say if I told you that you didn’t have to give me oral?”

“I’d tell you I enjoy doing it.” He said with a grin. 

“So do I.” She said. 

“Speaking of which…..” He said, ginning and rising over her. He eased his way down her body and smiled as she parted her legs for him. She was confident enough to know what she liked and didn’t like. There was no coaxing her into anything, she would ask for what she wanted. 

He stretched her legs apart as wide as they could go and leaned down giving her a long lick up her lips. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as she prepared to enjoy what he was about to treat her to.

He dove in like a starved man in front of a buffet. He thrust his tongue deeply, gripping her ankles and holding them wide open. Pansy’s head rolled from side to side, and she reached down, weaving her hands through his hair, pulling him closer. Ron fed off her reaction, tasting the new release of juices that began flowing out of her. 

Pansy was flailing about whimpering and clutching anything within reach. “Ron……Ron I need you…..’ She called out. 

“I know what you need love.” He rose over her and straddled one thigh, lifting the other over his shoulder, then plunged his cock inside her. Pansy let out a sheik and arched her back, reaching for his arms as he leaned over her. He thrust deeply, gripping her shoulders and pulling her into him. 

His depth was unbelievable and she ached to be filled by him, but it was an ache Pansy loved. She caressed the knees beside her hips and the strong thighs that flexed with his thrusting. The X position of their legs made the depth of his penetration fully felt. She cried out under him, looked up into his focused eyes as his gaze and his body drilled into her. 

He let her leg fall off his shoulder and to the side where he took it in his hand, keeping it for to the side. Rising up he continued to thrust into her while he searched out her clit with his fingers. When he found her little button she went mad. She howled in delight at the magnificent torture he was putting her through. 

“You look so fucking sexy right now.” He told her, without stopping his rhythm. She would have blushed at his compliment but she was too heated and too turned on to be shy with him anymore. Instead she looked up at him with her hazy eyes, her whole body close to climax, and held out her arms. 

Ron dropped down carefully, making sure he kept his fingers didn’t lose their position, and lowered his chest over hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, while he slid his free arm around her waist, pulling her against him. His hips worked faster and faster, his fingers rolled over her clit harder and he felt her whole body tense up. Her hold on his shoulders tightened. 

“Are you going to cum for me love?” He asked, then kissed her hard, swallowing her grunts into his mouth before pulling away. “Come on Pansy, let me feel it.” His voice was the most seductive she had ever heard, and his gentle urging was so sweet that it sent her over the edge. 

Ron smiled to himself as she let out a howl and dug her nails into his back. Her whole body shook with wild tremors and her pussy clenched down on him with a new tightness that tested his control. He slowed his pace, rocked into her gently as she heaved and panted under him, her whole body going limp. 

She felt him ever so slowly pulling out and easing back in, her body was being moved by his, but it felt so delicious. It was better than any dream she could have conjured or any words he could have strung together. She felt life filling her body again and opened her eyes to look at him. He gave her a sexy grin and placed a small kiss on her cheek. His body never stopped moving. He continued to move in and out, content with feeling her softness as he submerged inside her. 

“You are remarkable.” He said, slipping both arms around her and squeezing gently. 

“I would say you were as well.” She said with a husky voice. She was able to lift her limbs again, wrapping her arms around him and returning his hug. He shifted his frame and let her pull her leg free to lock her ankles behind his back. 

“You bring it out of me.” He kissed her deeply, tasting her open lips with slowly thrusts of his tongue that matched his cock rhythm. “All those long weeks and months without you.” He moved to her neck, nuzzling her skin. “It made me hungry.” 

She let her hands roam, moving to any skin she could touch. His warmth was comforting, and she was glad there were no more secrets. “I want you to cum too.” She told him, feeling the need in his own body and the desire of her own to see him reach fulfillment. “How can I help?” 

“Hold on tight.” He said. She let out a yelp as he lifted her in his arms and raised himself upright. He brought his knees closer and sat back on his ankles. He gripped her ass in both hands and looked up at her face. “Don’t let go.” 

She nodded and locked her ankles firmly, while holding his shoulders in a tight hug. She let gasps out as he raised his knees and thrust upward into her. She tightened her grip with her legs, afraid she might be dislodged. “Arch your back just a bit.” He told her. When she complied she realized that her breasts were pressed into his face. She adjusted her hold and offered the bouncing globes to him as he fucked her. 

She was thrust higher and harder, she was certain her grip was the only thing keeping her mounted. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing the flesh and his teeth frantically trying to catch her evasive nipples as they moved in front of his face. She started thrusting into him, pulling him closer, as his groans turned to pained grunts. 

“Fill me up Ron.” She whispered into his ear. “Give me everything.” Pansy had never been a talking lover, but she knew he was and she wanted to be what he wanted. It worked. Ron squeezed her so tightly that she was sure there would be bruises, and his growled into her breasts as he thrust into her hard. 

Letting out a cry that gave her gooseflesh, she felt her body lifted as he thrust upward hard and deep staying for a moment, then thrusting again, and again. His body shook and Pansy let her own fall back on the bed, taking his weight on top of hers. His labored breathing gave her a new delight and she knew what he must have felt as he watched her while she orgasmed. She wove her hands through his hair and closed her eyes, enjoying the bliss he had given her. 

She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until his fingers playing with her hair woke her. She blinked several times then focused on his face looking down at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I fell asleep.’ She said, rubbing her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, leaning down and kissing her neck. “I like watching you sleep. It means you can’t sneak away this time.”

She chuckled and looked around. The window showed a setting sun, in a pink and blue sky. That meant it was dusk and they had been there all afternoon. “It’s late.” She said, sitting up, holding the sheet to her chest. Ron was in his jeans but they weren’t buttoned up.

“No it’s not even six yet. Are you hungry?” He asked. 

“A little.” She admitted. He had kidnapped her just after lunch and their aggressive afternoon had built up an appetite. 

“Good.” He turned and took a tray from the bedside table, levitating it in front of them. Together they ate from the tray of fingers foods, sampling chicken, and breads and steamed vegetables. 

“You know I’m not about to let you go after this right?” He told her after they had eaten their fill. 

“I figured as much.” She said, watching as he put the tray aside. 

“You were still afraid, even after the book?” He asked pulling her into his lap. 

“Slytherins aren’t known for their courage. I was afraid you would see me like so many of those women you have to deal with, but then things moved way too fast and I didn’t know if I could tell you the truth.” It felt good to speak honestly with him. 

“But I wrote the book for you.” He said, weaving his fingers with hers. “Did you read the dedication?”

“Yes I did.” She said avoiding his eyes. 

“And? Didn’t you believe it?” He asked. 

“I knew you meant it about her, but if you had known it was me, you may have felt differently.” She explained. 

He reached out with his fingertips and eased her face over to his. “You are one and the same. You are both my woman in white.” They shared a kiss that meant more to Pansy than anything she could wish for. She was finally where she fantasized and dream about for years. She was finally in his arms and he was looking at her. Not a stranger or a masqueraded coward. He was looking at Pansy Parkinson and life couldn’t be sweeter.


End file.
